turn your head towards the wall and tip your head back, lower your mask so that your nose only is exposed

i do as i am requested
the tightness
in my chest
mixed
with the fear
from countless friends
descriptions
of the procedure

there is no warning
no
this may sting
or
gentle squeeze
of the shoulder
just a sharp sense of pain
foreign and intense

it just sits there
in the bowels
of my sinuses
an atom bomb
of discomfort
flash frying
my sense of self
into an odd burning
whirlwind

and now five swipes before we move to the other nostril

it is scraping
my brain
shaking loose memories
long buried
of falling
glass like diamonds
in the air around me
awkward erections
in tight jeans
beneath the desk
of third grade
incomprehension

a million sunsets
flash
in degrading film
across the tattered screen
of my mental theatre

and once again

a gasp
escapes my throat
as i realize
i have been
holding my breath

the nimbus
tinted in shades
of reds
oranges
and yellows
ignites
as an accidental fuck
floats heavily
in the air
before that
interior reset switch
is jabbed hard
returning everything
to factory settings

all done

i swallow
three or four
vitriol flavored curses
while rubbing
ineffectually
at my nose
trying to remember
my second grade teacher’s name
and failing

results in two to ten business days

i thank
the marquis de sade
with his testing kit
of incremental torture
and hear the voice
of another
long forgotten friend
recount
getting the clap
and how the doctor
took care of it
realizing
things could always
be worse